


elasticity

by mooggott



Category: Fatal Journey, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV), 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Fatal Journey - Freeform, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Grief, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-22 21:17:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23400550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mooggott/pseuds/mooggott
Summary: Nie Huaisang wouldn’t be able to pinpoint exactly where it starts, but it starts innocently enough. A teasing remark here, a moment of vulnerability there. Nie Huaisang complimenting Nie Zonghui on a new hairpiece, and Nie Zonghui thanking him with a blush in return. Nie Huaisang thinks to himself how lovely Zonghui looks blushing, and then moves on with the rest of his day.
Relationships: Niè Huáisāng/Niè Zōnghuī
Comments: 28
Kudos: 139





	elasticity

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic, please be gentle

Nie Huaisang can't stop looking at Nie Zonghui. 

They’ve always gotten along well, being close in age, having a similar temperament and both loving da-ge; Nie Huaisang would go so far as to say they were friends. Nie Huaisang may never have been able to coax Nie Zonghui into sneaking out at night or drinking until he couldn’t walk straight, but he is one of the rare few that Nie Huaisang can talk to openly about art and literature, never worrying about repercussions. 

Nie Zonghui may not understand or care about the quality of inkstone or the difficulty of grinding it or the intricacies of brush strokes or the eroticism of Huaisang's latest poetry collection, but Nie Huaisang will never have to worry about word getting back to da-ge when he speaks freely with Nie Zonghui. 

Nie Zonghui has covered for Nie Huaisang on more than one occasion, whether it be to give Nie Huaisang a chance to hide his paintings or escape from training early, knowing full well the anger that Nie Mingjue will level at him and doing so anyway. So yes, Nie Huaisang would say they were friends. Maybe even good friends. 

But the older they get, Nie Huaisang growing from a carefree boy into a young man, the more he starts to notice Nie Zonghui. The more he starts to _look_. 

Nie Huaisang wouldn’t be able to pinpoint exactly _where_ it starts, but it starts innocently enough. A teasing remark here, a moment of vulnerability there. Nie Huaisang complimenting Nie Zonghui on a new hairpiece, and Nie Zonghui thanking him with a blush in return. Nie Huaisang thinks to himself how lovely Zonghui looks blushing, and then moves on with the rest of his day. 

When they take tea together in the outdoor pavilion to enjoy the late spring sun, he sees how Nie Zonghui's dark eyes catch the light and reveal specks of grey so fine that they almost glint silver. 

He sees how the corners of Nie Zonghui eyes will crinkle endearingly when he smiles and laughs, how his defined Adam's apple jumps, and Nie Huaisang endeavors to increase the number of smiles he can pull from Nie Zonghui, just for him to see and no one else. Nie Huaisang especially enjoys this game when his shixiong is supposed to be acting serious in front of Nie Mingjue. 

He sees the way Nie Zonghui's fingers are long and slim and graceful, an artist’s hands in another life. In this life though, they are tough and calloused, capable of holding both his sabers firm and stead, and yet can help Nie Huaisang care for his small, delicate birds with such gentleness. 

He sees the way Nie Zonghui pulls his long, sweaty hair back into a messy ponytail when it gets in his way during a particularly strenuous training session, exposing his nape for Nie Huaisang’s hungry gaze.

* * *

All these feelings that stir inside Nie Huaisang, heavy and confusing, culminate one hot afternoon in early summer. 

The disciples are permitted to remove their heavy outerwear during training, and Nie Zonghui has stripped to the waist, grey robes gathered around his hips, sweat shining on his exposed skin; he takes a long pull of water from his gourd, Adam's apple bobbing. The water spills over the corners of his mouth and cascades down his chin, dripping onto his chest. Nie Huaisang has to quickly excuse himself, much to his brother's chagrin. 

Nie Huaisang isn't an idiot, no matter how much people outside his sect want to think he is. He knows his mind very well, so when he catches himself sketching the curves of Zonghui's muscles later that evening, he knows exactly what's up. 

For a while, he tries to make do with his adolescent fantasies and his left hand, and it’s fine. It’s _fine_. He gets by for a few weeks and all is normal, bar the way his heart races when they make eye contact. 

All is normal until they travel to Laoling for a clan meeting. Nie Huaisang is sat beside his brother during the discussion, staring out of the nearest window of the small Qin hall and daydreaming, when his neck erupts in goosebumps. He turns to catch Nie Zonghui’s gaze lingering on him a beat too long, and Nie Zonghui flushes and quickly diverts his eyes to Sect Leader Qin. 

Nie Huaisang brushes the instance off. But then on the way back, he feels that gaze burning into his neck again, and then _again_ when they arrive back in the Unclean Real and he passes the reins of his horse to another disciple. 

A few more days go by, Nie Huaisang’s new hypervigilance catching Nie Zonghui staring red-handed again and again when he decides that he's had enough. He’s going to make his bet, show his hand, roll the dice, take a risk and consequences be damned. 

* * *

Summer is beginning to wane, but it’s refusing to go without a fight. The day is sweltering, the air close and thick and the sun pounds down with fervor. The disciples have just finished their training and have collapsed in the shade at the edges of the training ground, sweating and panting and cursing the heat. 

Nie Huaisang, having avoided practice by hiding in his room and being allowed to do so by his secretly soft-hearted older brother, is cool and unflappable as he approaches them, followed by two servants laden with trays of watermelon and lychee and jugs of chilled plum juice. He snaps his fan closed and clears his throat loudly to draw their attention. 

"Good afternoon boys! Thanks for your hard work today!" He stands to the side and gestures to the servants with a bright smile.

In a flash, the disciples have jumped to their feet and surrounded the flustered servants, shouting "Er-gongzi, you're too kind!" and "Nie-shidi, you’re a life-saver!”

Nie Zonghui, as the first disciple of Nie, let's his shidis have first dibs and stays seated on the ground while they help themselves, watching them with that warm smile that makes his eyes crinkle. Nie Huaisang’s heart thumps painfully. 

He edges his way towards Nie Zonghui as inconspicuously as possible and bends at the waist so he can whisper. 

"Shixiong," he says behind his fan. "Do you think I could steal you away, just for a moment? I'd really like your opinion on the painting I'm working on. I think I've messed up somewhere, but I can’t tell where?" 

"Ah, but -" Nie Zonghui pouts in disappointment, looking towards the other disciples currently gorging themselves. Nie Huaisang lets out a small giggle and waves his hand. "Don’t worry, shixiong - I've arranged for refreshments in my room already." 

Nie Zonghui's eyes light up. He grins and says, "Then it would be my pleasure, er-gongzi!" 

Huaisang smiles, stands and walks away without another word or backward glance. His heart hammers against his ribcage louder than drums, so loud he thinks his brother might be able to hear it all the way in the main hall. 

* * *

  
  


Nie Huaisang sits at his table, staring into space. His room is pleasantly cool, windows open and surrounded by gauze as thin as cicada wings that flutter in the slight breeze. He fans himself frantically anyway and nibbles halfheartedly on a piece of melon. He startles when there is a knock on his door and jumps to his feet as Nie Zonghui calls his name. "Yes, yes! Come in!" 

Nie Zonghui enters, bows and shuts the door behind him. In the ten minutes since Nie Huaisang last saw him, he’s cleaned up a little, washed away the sweat of the day and put on fresh robes. His hair is loosely tied back, still a little damp. He smiles charmingly and asks, "What do you need help with, er-gongzi?"

Nie Huaisang gestures for Nie Zonghui to sit, trembling like a leaf in the wind, opening and closing his fan over and over. His nerves have completely abandoned him and he curses internally. "W-Well! Well Zonghui, I'm very glad you asked!" 

Nie Zonghui sits opposite Nie Huaisang and grabs a piece of watermelon, stuffing it in his mouth untidily and placing the rind on the table. Juice drips down his chin as he chews and swallows and waits for Nie Huaisang to speak. He picks up another piece, repeats the process. The juice is pink and sweet on his lips.

Nie Huaisang stares, the words trapped in his throat, unable to even swallow past them. He coughs and abruptly stands, tripping on the hem of his robe as he stumbles away. Nie Zonghui tries to cover up his laugh and fails. He goes to one of his many, disorganized cabinets and rummages for nothing at all; anything to buy just a little more time, to let him gather his shattered wits that have scattered to the wind. 

Before Nie Huaisang knows it, Nie Zonghui is there, leaning against the cabinet as Nie Huaisang uselessly shuffles papers around. _No! Go away, don’t come over here, just give me a minute!_

He had really thought he'd been ready, gone over what he was going to say countless times, prepared for all possible outcomes, nerves steeled - but with Zonghui stood next to him now, so close and radiating warmth and smelling of clean, fresh soap, he realizes that he is very much _not_ ready and thinks that maybe calling the whole thing off would be an excellent idea right now. 

When Nie Zonghui sees Nie Huaisang's face, his amusement quickly shifts to concern. 

"Er-gongzi, are you well?" He reaches out and lays a hot palm against Nie Huaisang's forehead. “You’re so red! Do you feel ill?”

The unexpected touch sends Nie Huaisang reeling, banging his hip against the cabinet. "Ouch!! Yes, I'm well, quite well! Are you? Here, have some more melon!" 

Nie Huaisang moves to stumble back, planning to escape to the other side of the room, but his elbow is caught by Nie Zonghui before he can fully turn away. 

"What's going on, er-gongzi? Talk to me." 

Nie Huaisang is momentarily stunned by just how earnest the look on Nie Zonghui's face is, the worry that creases in his upturned brows and the set of his mouth. His eyes flash silver in the late afternoon sun.

"I, uh...um," Nie Huaisang's gaze darts around the room, looking for an out, looking anywhere but at the intensity of Nie Zonghui’s concern for his well being. An insistent tug on his arm forces him to return his attention. "Huaisang, you know you can talk to me about anything. Tell me what’s wrong."

Nie Huaisang feels something inside himself collapse under the weight of those words, the use of his name used so affectionately. He takes a breath, wets his lips. "I didn't ask you to come to help with my painting, shixiong." 

Nie Zonghui nods, waiting for him to continue. 

"I- I actually...well, you see, what I was thinking-" 

"What is it, Huaisang?" Nie Zonghui presses, squeezing Nie Huaisang’s arm encouragingly. “It’s unlike you to be so-” 

Nie Huaisang clenches his eyes shut and just blurts it out in a rush. "I was hoping to seduce you." 

The silence that greets him is _deafening_. He cracks one eye open to see Nie Zonghui's reaction and immediately regrets his decision. 

Nie Zonghui's eyebrows have shot towards his hairline, blinking in shock at Nie Huaisang, his jaw dropped halfway to the floor. 

An uncomfortable handful of seconds pass before Huaisang can no longer take it, his face so red it feels like it's on fire. He yanks the arm still being held out of Nie Zonghui’s grip and shoves his shoulder. 

"Don’t just stand there, say something!" he cries. “Tell me I’m disgusting, that you’d rather lose your arms and legs!” 

A flush has begun to creep up Nie Zonghui's neck and face and he finally shuts his mouth. 

"You know what, please can we just forget about it?” Nie Huaisang implores, turning his back on Nie Zonghui and burying his burning face in his hands. “Please just pretend I didn’t say anything and go back to the others!” 

He starts to walk briskly away through the room partition when he hears Nie Zonghui clear his throat and say in a small voice, "I'd like that…"

Nie Huaisang turns abruptly, so fast he almost slips, eyes wide. "Huh?"

Nie Zonghui isn’t looking at him, instead choosing to inspect his feet, his face every bit as red as Nie Huaisang’s own feels. "I would...very much like to be seduced by er-gongzi." 

Nie Huaisang's mouth feels paper dry. He tries in vain to speak, but his tongue feels two sizes too big and his throat is a veritable _desert_. He strides quickly to the table, picks up a vessel of ice water and pours the whole thing into his mouth and over his face, ears deaf to Nie Zonghui’s exclamation of “er-gongzi?!”

It splashes all over the floor and table, the books and brushes and ink that he'd left spread out, the cushions, his hair and shoulders. He is dripping cold water. He doesn't care. He puts the now-empty vessel down and turns back to the completely bewildered Nie Zonghui with a frown. 

He rubs his dripping face dry with his sleeve and says, "Okay then. Let's kiss," before marching over, grabbing the front of Nie Zonghui's robe and smashing their faces together. They both pull away with a yelp, holding their noses in pain, but when they make eye contact they can’t help the laughter that bubbles over at the ridiculousness of it all. Zonghui laughs so hard he snorts, which just makes the pair laugh harder. Just as they think the moment has passed, it starts up again twice as hard until they are bent double and holding their sides. 

"Okay, okay," Nie Huaisang says after a couple of solid minutes of laughing. He wipes the tears from under his eyes and another laugh bursts out before he clears his throat harshly, flicking his wet hair over one shoulder. "Okay, I want to try again."

Nie Zonghui, wiping away his own tears of laughter, nods and reaches out to place his hands lightly on Nie Huaisang's waist. "Yes, I'd like that, er-gongzi."

Nie Zonghui pulls Nie Huaisang a little closer, just enough for Nie Huaisang to place his hands on Nie Zonghui’s shoulders and tentatively lean up, slowly this time, and press a shy, smiling peck against Nie Zonghui's lips.

Nie Zonghui blushes pleasantly, his eyes fond and smile gentle. They come together again in tandem, the kiss longer this time, the closed seams of their lips slotting together chastely. 

Nie Huaisang had thought he'd seen and read enough erotica and pornography to be classed as experienced, but when he feels Nie Zonghui lick along his bottom lip, coaxing his mouth open to slide his tongue in, he quickly realises that he really doesn’t know anything. 

They draw away for a brief moment to breathe, a string of saliva connecting their gasping mouths. The heat has climbed, as if the afternoon sun has scorched through the thick walls of Nie Huaisang’s residence to coil between them. 

Nie Huaisang's stomach flutters pleasingly as Nie Zonghui presses forward again, the growing ardour obvious in the way he pants and nips at Nie Huaisang’s lower lip. Nie Huaisang hums into his open mouth, the obscene, wet noises of their mouths against one another stirring warm and low in his belly.

They press closer together, chests and hips and legs slotting against each other, and Nie Zonghui's arms tighten, encircling Huaisang's waist, pushing him against the cabinet. Nie Huaisang's hands trail along Nie Zonghui's shoulders and neck and he releases a surprised squeak when Nie Zonghui’s thigh accidentally brushes Nie Huaisang's growing hardness. They break apart and Nie Huaisang feels dazed, his panting mouth numb and bruised. Nie Zonghui seems to have fared no better, his eyes half-lidded and starstruck, his lips swollen and red. 

"We should stop, er-gongzi,” Nie Zonghui murmurs, his words completely lacking any conviction. 

"Huh? Why?" Huaisang asks dreamily, thumbs brushing against Zonghui's jaw and along his cheeks. He kisses up and down Nie Zonghui's throat with dainty pecks. "I want to have sex with Zonghui. I want you to be my first." 

Nie Zonghui chokes a little on his intake of breath, looking scandalized. Even Nie Huaisang is distantly shocked at his own forwardness but decides to not think too hard and take full advantage of this kiss-drunk state. He rubs his thigh between Nie Zonghui's legs, his smile growing fox-like when he feels how hard Nie Zonghui is. He asks innocently, "I think you would like that too, wouldn’t you gege?" 

All laughter from mere moments ago has evaporated, replaced by something like fire, something like longing. Nie Zonghui surges forward, a tidal wave of want, fist tightening in Nie Huaisang’s damp hair, kissing him hard. 

They grab at each other's clothes, pushing and tugging each other through the partition and towards Nie Huaisang’s bed. They keep pushing when the backs of Nie Huaisang's knees hit the edge and they tumble onto it, not parting for a moment, lips and teeth and tongues clashing, breathing heavy. 

Their hands bump and get in each other's way as they try to work their robes open. Nie Huaisang is for once thankful it’s summer and there are very few layers keeping their bodies apart, but this infuriating fumbling is taking too long. Nie Huaisang turns his face away to break the kiss and slaps at Nie Zonghui's hands playfully. "You're in the way, let me do it."

"Sorry, sorry," Zonghui pants and sits back on his knees so Huaisang can undo his belt and pull open his robe with speedy, deft hands. Nie Zonghui slips it from his shoulders and starts working on the tie of his pants, while Nie Huaisang unties his own robe. He hesitates when he pulls one arm out though, eyes raking over Nie Zonghui’s body, all lean, rippling muscles and tanned skin, his freed dick standing hard and red against his carefully toned stomach. Nie Huaisang is so much smaller and softer in comparison that he can’t stop the self-conscious doubt that draws into his periphery; and yet, as if he could read minds, Nie Zonghui is there, arms wrapped around Nie Huaisang’s shoulders, kissing and nipping softly at his jaw, muttering, "It's fine, it's fine, don’t worry. Er-gongzi is beautiful, he’s so beautiful and I can’t believe my luck right now." 

Nie Huaisang laughs, hands coming up to rest on Nie Zonghui back, feeling the dips and curves of his spine and shoulder blades, and says, "Of course someone who's about to get their dick wet would say that." But Nie Zonghui's words of gentle reassurance have hit their mark, and Huaisang melts as they kiss softly. 

It only takes a few more moments for them to divest the rest of their clothes, light summer robes and trousers and boots thrown haphazardly to the floor, and then they are both suddenly very naked and very aware of that fact. 

Nie Huaisang’s chest and face are burning hot. He wants to draw his knees up to hide himself. Nie Zonghui looks no different, similarly unsure of himself or what to do, despite having a physique that makes Nie Huaisang's dick twitch. _We’ve already come this far_ , Nie Huaisang reasons with himself, _it would be a shame not to take it all the way_ . Steeling his resolve, he locks his arms tight around Nie Zonghui’s shoulders and pulls him close, the line of their bodies joining as Nie Huaisang kisses him deeply. Nie Zonghui's arms come up to cage NieHuaisang's head as he lowers his weight onto Huaisang. They kiss for a while, tongues hot against each other, both growing more and more anxious.

Huaisang is a virgin, never having been with anyone at all, let alone another man, but it hadn't occurred to him that Zonghui might...be in the same boat? He asks between kisses, "Shixiong, who was your first?" 

"You’re asking me this now?” Nie Zonghui says incredulously, breaking away to lean back and look at Nie Huaisang, amused. “You will be, I suppose." He’s blushing so nicely that all Nie Huaisang can do is look down bashfully and say, "Okay, good."

They kiss a while longer, that first urgent burst to feel skin on skin now replaced with something a little more vulnerable, a little more intimate. Nie Huaisang strokes his fingertips up and down Nie Zonghui's back. They start to move against each other so slowly that it’s imperceptible at first, and then they are grinding in earnest, pressing against each other desperately. It's good, it’s _so_ good, but it's not enough. 

Huaisang gasps as they move faster and faster, their pace disjointed. It reaches a point of frustration quickly, and Nie Zonghui growls as he reaches a hand between them to wrap around their cocks, thrusting against Nie Huaisang into his fist and then it is suddenly too much. He feels himself approaching the edge as Nie Zonghui speeds up, panting wetly into the junction of Nie Huaisang’s neck and shoulder, and it takes all his willpower to push against Zonghui's shoulders and ask him to stop. 

Nie Zonghui obeys immediately, looking apprehensive. "I'm sorry, er-gongzi. Do you not like it?" 

"No, not at all," Nie Huaisang says, breathless. He sits up, forcing Nie Zonghui to sit up with him, and tucks a wet strand of hair behind his ear. "I like it very much, but I'm about to come and I still…" 

He trails off, suddenly shy. Where did all that boldness from earlier go? Nie Zonghui looks puzzled as Nie Huaisang's chest rises and falls against him, and he leans forward to kiss Nie Zonghui's cheek. "I want to go all the way."

Nie Zonghui looks surprised, but his eyes are dark and heavy with want. "Gongzi, you...are you sure?" 

Nie Huaisang nods quietly, but inside he’s screaming, _I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life! Except maybe my failing grades at Gusu!_

"I've already prepared. I have oil," he gestures to the small decanter sitting unassumingly on his bedside table. It could be anything; perfume, medicine, alcohol. Who would think that it was lubricant? "And I’ve...played with myself, on occasion." 

Nie Zonghui has turned fiercely red, from his ears to his chest. "I see."

Although he’s finding that the real thing is much different from pornography and masturbation, he’s learned what he needs to do from his books and art. He uses his fingers frequently, and once even managed to come purely from rubbing at his prostate, without even touching his cock. 

Still though, as he takes the bottle and pours half its contents on his fingers, reaching between his legs to begin working himself open in front of Nie Zonghui's wolfish eyes, he can’t help but notice that Nie Zonghui's hard, weeping cock, the most wonderfully angry shade of red, is an awful lot bigger than his fingers. 

He opens himself up quickly, not wanting to waste time, and he’s still loose enough from the last time he fingered himself that there’s little difficulty. 

"Come here," he says to Nie Zonghui when he has three fingers stuffed inside, kneading in and out. Nie Zonghui shuffles forward so that he’s knelt between Nie Huaisang's spread thighs, watching Nie Huaisang’s fingers fervently. His Adam's apple bobs deliciously as he gulps. 

Nie Huaisang pours the other half of the oil onto Nie Zonghui's cock and uses his hand to smear it up and down his length. It feels so wonderfully hot to the touch, silky and slick; Nie Huaisang mouth is almost watering as he lines Nie Zonghui up with his hole, anxiety and excitement fluttering in his chest. 

He leans back on one hand and spreads his legs further, baring himself for Nie Zonghui, and uses his other hand to rub the head of Nie Zonghui’s cock in circles over his entrance, up and down, back and forth. It's _so_ wet, and Nie Huaisang groans involuntarily. _This is just too erotic,_ he thinks, his own dick throbbing. 

Nie Zonghui is breathing hard as he leans forward, hands resting on Nie Huaisang's knees, and he closes his eyes with a sigh as Nie Huaisang guides the tip in. There’s a bit of resistance, and it's a slow push to get even the head in. Nie Zonghui is trembling, panting softly, as though fighting the urge to come instantly, but Nie Huaisang hisses in pain when it’s only half in.

"Huaisang?" Nie Zonghui says, eyes shooting open and full of concern. "Is it too much? Do you want to stop?"

Nie Huaisang throws his head back and hisses "keep going" at Nie Zonghui’s hesitation, moaning low and deep when Nie Zonghui pulls out slightly and pushes back in with more force than before. It hurts like fuck, _oh boy_ does it hurt, but Huaisang refuses to quit. He blinks back the tears in his eyes, clenches his jaw and reaches for the bottle again, shaking the dregs of oil out over where their bodies are connected. 

Nie Huaisang’s arms are shaking with the effort of keeping himself upright, buckling as Zonghui pushes in a little more, a little more, just a _little_ more, and then their hips meet and Nie Huaisang’s arms give out completely. He hits the bed with an _oof_ , the back of his hand pressed to his sweaty forehead. He’s drenched in sweat, they both are, a combination of the exertion and the humid day creeping in through the windows. 

“Are you alright, er-gongzi?” Nie Zonghui asks, sitting back on his haunches, buried deep in Nie Huaisang’s body.

"No, I'm not alright! This hurts like hell, shixiong!” Nie Huaisang huffs at him, smacking at Nie Zonghui’s chest lightly before holding his arms out for Nie Zonghui to lean into. “But if you dare pull out, I'll never forgive you."

Nie Huaisang clamps his thighs hard around Nie Zonghui's waist and crosses his ankles behind his back, tightening the arms wrapped around Zonghui's shoulders in an iron grip so that he can’t move away, even if he wanted to. 

"Er-gongzi, if you want to stop-"

"I don’t! And believe me, if I did _you_ would be the first to know." He frowns at Zonghui. "Now are you going to fuck me or are you just going to lie there looking nervous?"

Ah, there was that unexpected forwardness again. It’s a welcome development, especially when Nie Zonghui responds so wonderfully; face red and dick pulsing hard inside of Nie Huaisang.

Nie Zonghui pushes Nie Huaisang's knees further apart so he can settle between them, kissing reverently at Nie Huisang’s jaw and throat.

"Stop that!" Nie Huaisang says, laughing. "How flexible do you think I am? My legs don't go that far!” 

Nie Zonghui is torn between worry and fervid lust, but it doesn’t take him long to start rolling his hips, his movements slow and shallow. Nie Huaisang grunts and flops his head back, concentrating on the feeling of Nie Zonghui peppering his exposed throat with chaste butterfly kisses. 

"Kiss me properly, shixiong," Nie Huaisang mumbles. "It won't hurt if you kiss me." 

“Yes, er-gongzi,” Nie Zonghui whispers back, bending his head to Nie Huaisang's.

It doesn’t take long for Nie Huaisang to grow accustomed to the stretch, and his licks along Zonghui's bottom lip in encouragement. "Please, more. Please."

Nie Zonghui is inexperienced too, the rhythm of his thrusts is erratic at best, but he does his best to obey and thrust with more force, hitting Nie Huaisang’s prostate more often than not. 

The friction mounts and mounts, and soon his softening cock is hard again. The discomfort is still there, but negligible with the ever-growing pressure blooming inside him. Nie Huaisang gasps against Zonghui's mouth, "Yes, yes shixiong, just like that."

Nie Zonghui is unravelling around him and inside him, his breathing hard and hot and heavy, the rhythm of his hips a stuttering mess. He thrusts harder, deeper, so much so that Huaisang is bodily moved up the bed and has to rest a hand against the wall to keep from banging his head. “Sweet boy, sweet boy,” Nie Huaisang moans against Nie Zonghui’s cheek. “So good to me. Are you going to come, shixiong? You can come inside me, if you want.” 

He licks along Nie Zonghui’s cheek to his mouth and shudders when he feels Nie Zonghui tense and groan, burying his face in Nie Huaisang's throat. He thrusts weakly a few more times, panting and keening before he relaxes bonelessly against Nie Huaisang. 

Nie Huaisang can feel his heart jackrabbiting against his own. He kisses Zonghui's hair and temple, rubbing his back in comforting circles. "Shixiong, shixiong, get up."

"Huh?" Nie Zonghui kisses his neck sleepily and Nie Huaisang feels just a modicum of irritation. 

"Zonghui, get up, you still need to make me come."

Nie Zonghui pushes himself up quickly. "You mean, you didn't…?"

"Of course not. You've still got work to do, so you can’t go to sleep yet." 

"Of course, gongzi." 

Nie Huaisang yelps when Nie Zonghui quickly pulls out, slapping his side. "Gentle, Zonghui! I'm sore!" 

"Sorry, sorry!" Nie Zonghui says, already on his knees between Nie Huaisang's open legs. "What do you want me to do?"

Nie Huaisang sighs and rolls his eyes with a tut. "Shixiong, shixiong. Have you really never seen porn before?"

Nie Zonghui blushes and frowns. "Not willingly, _shidi_." 

Nie Huaisang laughs, covering his mouth with his hand. He leans forward to kiss him and says, "Okay, okay. I'll teach you, just this one time." 

He bites his lip and takes Nie Zonghui’s hand, guiding it to his entrance, raw and red and wet with oil and come that is already leaking out. 

"Put two fingers in and do this," Nie Huaisang instructs, demonstrating by crooking his own fingers. He takes Nie Zonghui’s other hand and brings it to his woefully neglected cock. "And touch me here at the same, like you would touch yourself." 

Nie Zonghui nods wordlessly, swallows nervously and inserts his fingers, both at once, crooking them up just as he was instructed. He wraps his fist around Nie Huaisang's cock, stroking up and down with a twist of his wrist. 

It feels like sin immediately, and Nie Huaisang‘s eyes roll back as he flops down, arching his back with a shuddering gasp. He was expecting it to feel good, but _fuck_ this is a new level. Nie Zonghui is a quick learner, always has been, and apparently he’s just as quick to pick things up in the bedroom as he is on the training field. 

The way he pumps his fist in circles like that? The way he pushes and brushes against Huaisang’s prostate _every time_? Nie Huaisang sees stars, mouth open wide in ecstasy.

He falls apart so much faster than he had been expecting and he looks down just in time to see Nie Zonghui press a kiss to the drooling head of his cock. Nie Huaisang comes with a choked sob, instantaneously and without warning, onto Nie Zonghui's surprised face. 

Nie Huaisang whites out, thighs shaking and cock twitching through the last of his release. When he returns to himself, he draws in a deep breath with a moony smile and pushes himself up with great effort. His smile transitions quickly into horror when he sees the mess he’s made of Nie Zonghui’s face. "Oh my god Zonghui, I am so sorry!" 

His thin summer sheet is tangled around them, but he manages to tug a corner out and wipes furiously at Nie Zonghui's delighted face, brushing his hair out of the way. Nie Zonghui just laughs, batting Nie Huaisang's hand away once most of it is wiped off. He licks the corner of his mouth and Nie Huaisang could swear his soul just left his body. If he could come again he probably would.

"Don't worry about it, Huaisang. It was good." 

He leans up, still between Nie Huaisang’s legs, and Nie Huaisang meets him halfway, cradling Nie Zonghui's face delicately in both hands. They kiss long and slow, and Nie Zonghui crawls over Nie Huaisang so that they can lie beside one another.

"Are you satisfied, Nie er-gongzi?" Nie Zonghui asks as they kiss, lying on their sides facing each other. 

"Oh yes, very satisfied. Thank you for your hard work today." Nie Huaisang hums against his lips, burrowing into his embrace, breathing deep the smell of sweat and sex, the remnants of Nie Zonghui's soap and the lingering sweetness of watermelon.

"It’s my pleasure, er-gongzi," Nie Zonghui nuzzles against his throat, arms pulling Nie Huaisang tight against his chest. They lie like this for a few minutes, the sweat cooling on their skin, the sheet tangled around their legs.

Nie Huaisang breaks their languid kissing to say, "You’re going to need to tell da-ge I won’t be able to do any sword training for a while though." 

Nie Zonghui freezes. "Wait, what?" 

"I've been injured!” Nie Huaisang exclaims. “My hips and back hurt _so_ much, gege, and whose fault is that? Surely you can’t expect me to go to the training field in this condition." 

Nie Zonghui hides his face in his shoulder and groans, "Please er-gongzi, he’s going to go mad." 

"Better you than me!" Nie Huaisang replies brightly. 

Nie Zonghui sighs in defeat, giving in far too easily, but turns his smile is warm and full of adoration, eyes crinkling and looking at Huaisang like he hung the moon. 

"I hope I never get on the wrong side of you, didi.” 

Nie Huaisang rubs their noses together and kisses his lips lightly. He thinks that maybe he could wake up next to this person for the rest of his life. “How about another round?”

* * *

Just a week later, Nie Huaisang is on the training field with Nie Mingjue, whining incessantly as he is put through the most basic of exercises and forms.

"For fucks sake, Huaisang! How many times have we been over this?" 

"Da-ge, I'm so _tired_ ," Nie Huaisang complains in a drawl, dropping his saber with a clang.

"Didi, pick that up right now or so help me-" Nie Mingjue cuts off when he sees Nie Zonghui walking by with three other disciples. "Zonghui! Come here and show the babiest shidi how it's done!"

Nie Huaisang perks up when he hears Nie Zonghui's name and puts his hands on his hips as he turns to face him, offering a sly smile. 

"Yeah, shixiong," he says. "Come show me how you handle this saber." 

Zonghui blushes furiously when Huaisang winks at him.

  
  


* * *

Nie Huaisang plays the Song of Clarity desperately on the little piccolo gifted to him by san-ge, and for a moment it works. Nie Zonghui smiles up at Nie Mingjue, freed from the control of the saber spirit, eyes full of devotion, and calls his sect leader’s name. Nie Mingjue seems to have calmed, and Huaisang could sob in relief. But then something breaks, something he can’t see, something goes _wrong_ , and Nie Mingjue lets out a crazed roar and slashes down with Baxia. Blood sprays across Mingjue's chest and face, and the light leaves Zonghui's eyes before he even hits the floor. Just like that, Nie Huaisang’s first love ends.

**Author's Note:**

> on twitter @moggott


End file.
